


Il Dottore

by sidusmane



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Author Clearly Has Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, I'll update the tags as I go, Italian Mafia, M/M, completely self indulgent work with the irishman/the godfather setting because why the hell not, hannibal is a little shit but that should be customary by now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidusmane/pseuds/sidusmane
Summary: Dottore Lecter is a mafia boss. Will bargains a favour with a man you don't want to be indebted to.The Irishman meets The Godfather meets Hannibal.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	Il Dottore

**Author's Note:**

> \- Any coincidences with Mario Puzo's The Godfather are purely and totally intentional. I've been watching gangster movies non stop for the past month because I became hyperfixated on certain two actors who have a shitload of gangster/mafia movies on their filmography and this happened and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. If you would be so kind, read the notes at the end of this piece too. Happy reading!
> 
> \- not beta'ed

“We really like it here _Dottore_ ,”

He thinks he looks pathetic, sitting in the lavish chair facing the stiff figure before him. Will can only wonder what thoughts lie behind those deep maroon eyes while he babbles on about what currently ails him; he hates himself for coming to the _Dottore_ but he found himself without a choice, and he most certainly couldn’t let all of his and his father’s efforts be in vain

“At first it was only two of them. They came, shattered a couple of windows and stole a couple of tools. We were both asleep, so we didn’t hear, we saw the damage only in the next morning. But then, they began to come with more people, stole much more than we could have ever imagined and then-”

A hand waves, and someone hands Will a drink to calm his nerves. He gulps down the drink, breathes out for longer than he meant in his head.

“We got two lovely dogs, big and loud, trained them to respond to unwanted visitors.” Will’s breath hitches, his whole body taut in nervousness. “It was hard to keep the dogs healthy and well fed with all the losses in the shop, but we would rather starve ourselves than let any harm come to those two. They uh-, they bludgeoned the dogs. Both of them. I heard the cries coming from outside and I was already on my way to stop them, but my father insisted I stayed inside and went out himself, alone. He sai- He said it didn’t matter if he got hurt, he was old anyway, but not only did they unmercifully killed the dogs, they almost killed my father. Broken zygomatic bone, shattered mandible and a couple of lost teeth.”

This is when Will finally looks up and stares at the man sitting across him.

Terse, nervous. The other man, attentively watching, lets a faint smile bloom on his face, covered by a hand stroking his own jaw.

“We went to the police, took all the proper measures we could. They didn’t even spend a day in jail. We were made fools by them and they even had the nerve to mock us afterwards.”

“We never got into trouble, _Dottore_. When we first moved here we came to have your blessing to open up our shop and you so kindly blessed us. We are always respectful to everyone and the dogs- the dogs didn’t deserve what happened,”

“Why did you go to the police first? Why didn’t you come to me first?”

“Just tell me what you want from me, I’ll do anything, but please… Please… I want-”

“What exactly,” The _Dottore_ finally said, “dear Will, is it that you want me to do?”

Will’s train of thought is cut short, his eyes looking everywhere but at the man in front of him. A moment of silence befalls them as the young man tries to come up with a strong answer that wouldn’t offend the _Dottore_.

“I want them dead.”, he responds.

The _Dottore_ leans back in his own sumptuous chair, considers the young man before him, stares daggers at a pair of pleading, glinting blue eyes. He lets Will see the small naughty smile flashing across his face.

Will gulps.

“That, my dear boy, I cannot do.”

Will could drop dead on the floor if it weren’t to consume him with embarrassment doing so. He kicks himself in his own head for even considering coming to him.

“Please. I’ll give you anything you ask. Please.”

The _Dottore_ considers him again, the small taunting smile never leaving his face. After a moment, he sighs, rising up from his chair. He makes his way to Will with small, calculated steps until he reaches the other side of the table, where he makes himself comfortable sitting at the edge of it. Will has never been more terrified of anyone in his life as he is right now of the man standing tall and imposing in front of him.

“I don’t recall the last time you, or your father, invited me over for a cup of coffee.” He toys with the cufflinks of his shirt, mindless to the nervous wreck sitting below him. “I’ve known you for many years now, and yet, this is the first time you come to me for help.” Will doesn’t know what terrifies him the most: the honey dripping from his accented voice or the way the _Dottore_ blatantly dismisses his distress at the position he currently finds himself in.

  
“Be honest with me William. You and your father never wanted my friendship. And you were clearly afraid to be in my debt.” Will wants to dig the deepest hole he can and bury himself in the ground, wants to be anywhere else but away from the scrutiny he feels he’s under right now.

“I didn’t want to get into trouble,” He says, barely audible.

“I understand,” The other man says, leaning back ever so slightly, posture calm and composed while below him the young man is seconds away from a heart attack. “You and your father make an honest living, the police protects you and you have your courts of law. You didn’t need then a friend like me, did you?”

“I-”

“No, you did not,” He doesn’t sound angry, just disappointed. “But now, my dear boy, you come to me and you say: “ _Dottore_ Lecter, please, give me justice”,” His voice sounds ever so slightly mocking, which hurts a part of Will never even knew of its existence. “But you don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer friendship, you don’t even think to call me _Godfather_. Only _Dottore_ Lecter.”

Will sinks into his seat, the faintest of blushes beginning to colour his cheeks.

“Instead, you come to my restaurant, on my anniversary's feast and ask me to murder for money.”

“I ask you for justice,”

“That is not justice. Your father is still alive.”

“I want them to suffer then, as my father and I suffer right now, as my dogs suffered in their hands. I’ll do anything you ask of me, I’ll pay any sum you wish.” This gets Will angry, speaking with a sharp snarl that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there. He stares right back at Lecter, eyes now burning with shame and violence.

_Dottore_ Lecter would smile if he wasn’t so disappointed. He sighs again, rising up from the table and walking back to his chair with the same small, calculated steps. His hands rise to grip a flower from the table, bringing it close to smell it until he sneaks a glance at the young man, visibly trembling right now.

“What,” Lecter begins, voice small and ever so soft, disappointed. “Have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?” A pause, to make his point properly sink. “If you’d come to me in friendship the people who have caused you and your father suffering would be lying lifeless in the gutter as we speak. And if an honest man such as you or your father should ever make enemies, they would then become my enemies. And then, dear Will, they would fear you.”

  
Glancing at the young man once more, Lecter delights with the visible conflict going on inside his head, and would cast him a smile if it wasn’t going to betray his disappointed facade. He had talked with several people in the very same situation poor Will finds himself in, and he’d always made a point of being polite and demanding said politeness in return, regardless of what anyone’s conclusions and opinions about Lecter and his family. He knew murder was part of daily activities but despite what the young man said, they were much more than that.

Lecter and his family were a grounding point in the neighbourhood, equally respected and feared, but always helping a poor fellow in dire times should he have the reciprocity of friendship, and most importantly, of politeness. He never offered something he wouldn’t have in return and right now, William wasn’t returning anything at all, only making cheap demands as if Lecter and his people were only guns for hire.

How terribly rude.

Lecter hates rudeness, in all of its shapes and forms.

Doesn’t stand it. Can’t stand it. Won’t stand for it.

But how could he resist the request when he did murder for both money _and pleasure_? And when this boy in question pleaded ever so beautifully and stood so small and fragile before him? Asking for revenge even if in this boy’s mind he called it justice. How often the meaning of those two converged. He scans the young man beneath him, eyes curious and searching when he sees the change in his expression. Lecter waits.

“I’ll offer you my friendship _Dottore_ ,” Will looks up, suddenly brave and courageous, with a hint of curiosity. “and I’ll be proud to call you my Godfather _after_ you meet the end of our bargain.”

Lecter certainly had been curious about Will before, the quiet young man who always kept to himself on the streets, barely spoke apart from when spoken to, but who was always kind and gentle, courteous even, especially to the old ladies in the neighbourhood. It took the _Dottore_ a moment to fully process what Will was doing, using Lecter’s own implied request as a bargaining chip against him, while appealing to his sense of pride at being someone’s godfather at the same time. 

Clever, cunning boy. 

He certainly had the _Dottore_ ’s attention now.

  
“Very well, my young _friend_ ,” he moves from his spot, and walks to Will to physically help him up from his seat, delicately putting his hands on the young man’s shoulder, demanding that Will looks straight into his eyes. “Some day, and that day may never come, I’ll ask of you a service for me. But until that day, accept this _justice_ as a gift to our flourishing _friendship_.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you got this far I have nothing but grattitude for you. A couple of things worth mentioning:  
> \- This is my second work ever of fanfiction and the first ever in the Hannibal fandom (which I've been in but more as a observant than an active participant ever since the show was first aired);  
> \- I haven't written in more than a literal decade (let alone in english, I'm rusty as hell) but life happened and it wanted me to get back to writing, so any and every single feedback I get will be immensely appreciated.  
> \- Should you want to come talk, you can find me here: https://scarybatz.tumblr.com/


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